Without You
by Wynterkiss
Summary: Hawke can't bring herself to kill Anders, but she can't bring herself to forgive him, either.  After she sends him away, though, she finds herself miserable without him.  Rated M for adult situations.
1. The End of the Beginning

Hiya, everybody! This is my first fic in a very long time, so please be gentle. It's unfortunately un-beta'd, as I'm too impatient to hunt one down, so if anyone is interested in beta-ing the rest of this, or knows someone who would be willing, please PM me and let me know. I apologize for the short-ness, it felt like a natural break. I'm also having trouble writing the next section, so I was hoping this would get some nice reviews to encourage me!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Bioware owns Dragon Age. I think Bioware pretty much owns _me_, in fact.

Without you

The hand gropes

The ear hears

The pulse beats

Without you

The eyes gaze

The legs walk

The lungs breathe

The mind churns

The heart yearns

The tears dry

Without you.

Life goes on,

But I'm gone

'Cause I die

Without you.

-Without You, Rent

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><p>She fingered the dagger at her hip, considering. "<em>Why the hell do I have to make this choice. I... Maker, I'm so angry. With him. With this situation. With EVERYTHING. <em>_Andraste's flaming knicker weasels__!"_

Marian Hawke stared at the vulnerable back of the unresisting mage sitting dejectedly on a crate. Anders. Her friend. Her confidant. Her _lover_, and he'd just gone and blown up the whole chantry, killing Maker knew how many innocent people. For that alone, he should be executed. On top of that, there was his betrayal of her, the _lies _he'd lead her by the nose with...

"_He tried to warn you-"_ the back of her mind said.

"_Shut up,"_ she hissed at it venomously.

And then there was the way his touch lit her on fire, how that shy smile of his brightened her day. The quietness and comfort of his hands. How she'd always thought he had the most gentle, beautiful soul. How much she damn _loved him_.

"You deserve death for this... But I can't bring myself to be the one who does it. So go. Get out of my sight." Her voice was like ice. Cold. Brittle. Just the way she felt right now.

"Hawke, I-" burst from him. His voice was colored with shock as he turned enough to meet her eyes. Cold blue eyes met with honey brown ones for a fleeting instant before Hawke turned her back on him.

"Maker help me, Anders, get out of here before I change my mind." If she looked at him for one second more, she'd scream, or kiss him and forgive all his crimes, or kill him, or maybe shatter into a million pieces. She wasn't sure which and she didn't want to find out. His eyes seemed to burn into her back.

"Thank you for my life. I'll try not to make such a mess of it this time." She couldn't help it. She turned back to look at him. Their eyes locked for an instant as he got up and walked away. She stared at his retreating back.

"We'd all best get to the Gallows, and quick. It's going to be quite a show." Varric said, awkward segue showing that the situation to be apparently beyond even his silver tongue.

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><p>It was over, in a sense. The end of the beginning, at any rate. She'd defended the mages, her conscience-and her baby sister the circle mage- not allowing her to do anything else. The thing that used to be Orsino was a repulsive corpse. Meredith was dead, or... something. No longer a threat at any rate. She <em>hoped<em>. But the city was burning and people were still looting and fighting and dying, and _Maker_ it was a mess. Hawke didn't know what to do. Quite frankly, she was one empty numb void. Numb was probably a good thing, given the number of injuries she'd sustained in the fight against Meredith.

"_Maybe you shouldn't have sent away your only healer before fighting a powerful madwoman, eh?" _that obnoxious voice in the back of her mind quipped.

"_Point for the voices in my head," _she admitted grudgingly. Trying to dodge blows and fumble for a healing potion at the same time just didn't work well, for any of them. Merrill was a devastating offensive mage, but her healing spells were just not equal to... _his_. Not even close. She looked over at Fenris, who looked to be feeling much like she was. _Sore._

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to sleep for about a week, and Maker help the unfortunate soul who wakes me," Hawke said. Fenris could only nod his head in reply, not that being taciturn was unusual for the broody elf. She was surprised that he had agreed to help the mages in the fight, but Fenris was as loyal as a person could get, and even their differences in opinion did not manage to cleave him from her side. If only _he_ were as loyal... She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

"Get some sleep while you can, people. This may not be over yet."


	2. Nicknames

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing anything smutty. I almost chickened out with a fade to black like Bioware does, haha, but decided against it. Feedback and suggestions would certainly be appreciated!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, Bioware does, but think of the fun we could have if I did!

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><p><em>She was sitting curled in a chair before the fire in the library, reading an old tome on Kirkwall history. The scratching of a quill against parchment paper made an unpleasant background noise to her reading as Anders worked feverishly on his manifesto. He was consumed by that damn thing. They hadn't made love in weeks, what with Anders being wrapped so tightly in his work. Every single time she'd managed to get home early enough from whatever errands she was running that day, she found him exactly as he was right now – unable to be lured away for intimacy, food, or sleep, only working on his manifesto like a man possessed. Which, in fact, she supposed, he technically was. Resentment bubbled in her chest like poison. Why couldn't Justice just go away, and let her have her sweet, loving, gentle Anders the way he used to be? Now there was an idea...<em>

_She placed a bookmark in her book and set it aside. Smiling, she rose from her chair and stalked gracefully across the library, headed for the oblivious mage. She ran her hands firmly over the tattered feather pauldrons that he was so fond of, pressing firmly enough to feel the tension in his shoulders and start to smooth it away._

"_You're so tense, love," she breathed against his ear. "Come with me, let me relax you."_

"_Hawke, I really should-" her deft fingers massaged into a particularly tense muscle and his eyes rolled back slightly in his head and his breath sighed out at the relief._

"_Really should come let me pamper you," she said, smiling mischievously and drawing the now unresisting mage up out of his chair by the hand. Lacing their fingers together, she lead her lover down the hall to their bedroom and to the corner where the large bath tub sat near the fire._

"_I'll get Orana to draw up a bath," Hawke said, regretting that she hadn't had the forethought to have a bath drawn and waiting for him._

_Anders chuckled. "No need, darling," he said with a wave of his hand. The bath tub filled with ice. He then carefully applied a low fire spell to melt and warm the water until steam began curling gently off the surface._

"_It's rather terribly convenient that you're a mage. Spares no end of running about," Marian said as she ran her hands over his chest, nimble fingers undoing the various buckles and straps that closed the faintly-ridiculous-on-anyone-but-Anders coat. He shrugged out of it, draping it over a chair, leaving him wearing trousers and a light cotton shirt. A teasing look flashed across his face, a ghost of Anders the way he used to be when Marian had first met him. An ache settled in her chest. Apparently, the human heart could be replaced with something like lead and still work just fine. _

_"If I'm getting undressed, it's only fair if you do, too." The warm, playful tone of his voice both tightened yet lifted the ache around her heart, as Anders' hands crept to the sash of her house-dress._

"_Well then... Since you're all about fairness..." she purred at him. Then she internally kicked herself. Mention of Justice or anything like it was exactly what she'd hoped to avoid. Keen to avoid another run-in with her least favorite Fade spirit, Marian sought to distract his host in the best way possible. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body fully against his, relishing the feel of his wiry muscles against her yielding curves. Hawke tilted Anders' head down to meet hers and kissed him, just a bare press of lips at first, but both allowed their passion to show through as it grew into a wild thing of probing tongues and breathy pants. _

_Both of the renegade mage's hands rose up to cup her delicate face as he drank from her lips as if he were a dwarf and she the last barrel of ale in Thedas. Meanwhile, the rogue's nimble fingers expertly began unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it open to expose his chest, allowing her hands to rove across bare skin. Anders broke from the kiss with something between a sigh and a gasp as her palms lightly brushed over sensitive nipples._

"_You're cheating," Anders whined playfully, "and you're still not nearly naked enough."_

"_Well why don't we change that?" Marian challenged in return. Hands flew and garments hit the floor. They twined about one another, a tangle of limbs and questing lips. Hawke gradually guided the distracted mage towards the bathtub. He jumped slightly when his bare back brushed against the cool ceramic rim of the tub._

"_Into the bath with you," she told him, pushing him backwards gently with a hand on his chest._

"_Minx," Anders retorted. "You just like to see me wet." He eased into the tub with a sigh._

"_Yes." She replied unashamedly. "And I like taking care of you." Hawke picked up the bar of soap and wash cloth from the table by the tub and dunked them in the water, soaping the cloth, then gently began to lather Anders' body. He leaned against the back of the tub and closed his eyes. Finished with the soaping, she began to slosh water gently onto slick skin._

"_Tip your head back, love," she murmured, cupping her hands and filling them with water. When he complied, she wet his hair, then began working the mint shampoo Merrill made through the long unruly strands. Marian relished the quiet moments, the little things- the scent of mint mingling with the scent of Anders' skin. Their relationship was not always a thing of overwhelming passions and crusading for noble causes – sometimes, they were just two people in love, two people spending time together and being happy. Done laving his scalp, she rinsed the lather from his hair and began gently massaging the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. He groaned appreciatively._

"_You must secretly be a mage, Marian. There's magic in your fingers, I swear."_

"_Hey, you're they one they call Sparklefingers, not me."_

"_Why you-" Anders growled in mock-rage at her use of Oghren's nickname for him. He shifted, pulling her into the bath with him. "I shall have to teach you better taste in pet names for me." He trailed light kisses down her neck._

"_Mmmhmm, and how do you plan on doing that?" Hawke teased, tilting her head to the side to allow him better access._

"_Giving you inspiration to come up with a better one, of course." He lowered his mouth to her breasts, moving his hands to her back to support her as she arched into the sensation._

"_You'll have to... be very convincing..." Marian panted, her voice gone low and breathy with lust. She shifted in his lap, and her womanhood pressed against his hardened shaft_

"_Oh, I think I'll manage," Anders replied with a dark chuckle. Grasping her by the hips, he slid his entire length into her welcoming wetness, drawing a gasp from her lips and a moan from his own. As their bodies moved together, water threatened to lap over the sides of the tub. For a moment, Hawke was vaguely concerned about wet floors, but Anders shifted the angle of his hips and ran himself over that sensitive spot inside her that blanked her mind of anything but pleasure, causing her to cry out in ecstasy and dig nails into broad shoulders as she hung on for dear life. Smiling knowingly, Anders thrust into her over and over. The edges of Hawke's vision blurred white as something overwhelming built in her loins. She peaked with a cry. The clenching of her tight sheath around him was too much for him to withstand, and Anders followed her in release just a few thrusts after. The two of them remained frozen for a time, trying to relearn how to breathe as they came down from their mutual high._

"_You win. Pick your nickname. Cassanova? O Mighty and Virile One?" Hawke managed to quip once she had caught her breath a bit._

_Anders chuckled and hauled himself out of the tub, and helped the now-boneless Hawke out, wrapping a towel around them both as he cradled her against his chest. She murmured contentedly, rubbing her cheek against him like one of his beloved cats. Once they were reasonably dry, he drew Hawke with him to the bed and turned back the covers. She crawled in and Anders followed, laying spooned against her with his nose buried in her sweet-smelling hair and arms around her, covering her hands with his own and lacing their fingers together. As Marian drifted off to sleep, her heart felt free and light, warmed by the love she shared with the man whose arms held her so tightly._


	3. Mourning

A/N: Sorry about the wait, Christmas and work ate my life! I have the rest of the story outlined, so updates should be relatively more prompt, assuming that I find time to actually sit down and type it out. Thank you to **idrawcubes** for reviewing, and many many thanks to my awesome beta, **Kurgs**! They are both great, and you should read their stories!

Disclaimer: Bioware owns the characters. I do not. *pouts*

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><p>Hawke awoke, still groggy, groping blindly behind her for the solid warmth of her lover, but all that met her searching hand was cold sheets. She sighed as dream sorted from reality and she remembered. No more of Ander's arms around her in the morning, no more long nights making love, no more afternoons walking along the coast. No more warmth or love in Marian Hawke's life.<p>

She shook herself.

"That is _not_ true." She chided herself. "Don't be morbid. Your friends care for you; they'll be there when you need them." And yet emptiness crept into her, a cold fist around her heart. She could take Fenris up on his puppy dog eyes and fierce loyalty, or go in for the quick tumbles that Isabela was forever offering, yet... She couldn't imagine how she was supposed to move on. The thought of ever taking a new lover was sickening. Anders' hands had been the first to caress her skin, his lips the first she'd tasted, and she'd hoped... she'd hoped they'd be the last.

She felt a dull hopelessness weigh upon her, and she covered her mouth with the back of one hand to stifle the sob that burst from her. Tears began to stream down her face as her fingers curled over her palm and she bit down on the skin of her hand, trying to distract herself from the mental anguish with physical pain. She curled her knees to her chest and rocked herself- sobbing, biting, reeling at the edge of hysteria, perhaps the edge of sanity.

She lost track of how long she remained that way, blood trickling thinly down her arm from the bite going unnoticed. She eventually curled up on her side, staring at the nothing with silent tears still running down her cheeks.

A soft knock sounded at the door, stirring her from her stupor.

"Hawke?" came Aveline's firm contralto.

"Just... Just a minute," she rasped, her voice gone rough from crying. She rose from her bed and splashed some of the tepid water from her wash basin on her tear-sticky face. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. If she'd had the emotional capacity to be shocked, she would be. The face of a stranger stared back at her, hair rumpled, face pale, eyes haunted, bloodshot and red-rimmed, and dark circles sat like bruises underneath.

Shaking her head and running a hand through her hair to settle it somewhat, she crossed the room and cracked open the door. Aveline stood on the other side, Isabela, Fenris, and Varric close behind her.

"Oh kitten..." Isabela sighed, caressing Hawke's cheek softly with her fingertips.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Hawke insisted stubbornly, marshaling her wits. "What's gone wrong this time?"

"_That transition wasn't much more graceful than Varric's." _the voice in the back of her head quipped.

"_Quiet, you!"_ She retorted to it. Then mentally she snorted and shook her head at herself. Arguing with the voices in her head? She must be going crazy.

Graceless segue aside, Aveline seized upon the topic. She was terrible at "girly feelings" anyway. "The Templars are completely out of hand. Cullen won't be able to hold them back for much longer. They think that if they can capture you, they can quell the mage rebellion. We're going to have to run for it. All of us. Merrill and Bethany are already waiting for us outside of the city. It's not a good time to be a mage in Kirkwall."

Hawke winced at the reluctance in Aveline's voice at the mention of leaving. She regretted dragging the Fereldan battle-maid down with her. She'd put down roots here in Kirkwall, rising to the position of Guard Captain despite prejudice against Fereldans, and she'd managed to find love again in Donnic. And now Aveline would have to sever her ties in Kirkwall and flee, or face persecution, or even death, simply because she was a loyal friend. Tears touched Hawke's cheeks again as she met Aveline's eyes, her own full of appreciation for the older woman's sacrifice, and Aveline's full of compassion, understanding, and mercifully empty of reproach.

"At least we'll all be together." Marian said, feeling a slight lift in her hopelessness at the love she felt for her loyal companions.

"_Famous last words."_

"_Quiet, you!"_


	4. Hawkes in Flight

A/N: So, I'm terribly sorry about the lack of an update. And even sorrier to say that Without You is going to probably have to go on hold for a while. I'm wrapping up my senior year of college, and my internship is literally taking up all of my time. I will try harder to find time to hammer out snippets here and there and get something cobbled together, but I'm not sure when it will happen. I've got a long weekend coming up, so maybe look for an update around the 20th of this month (February). In the meantime, here's the bit of Chapter 4 that I have completed as a bit of a teaser to tide you over. And yes, the pun title DOES delight me, thanks for asking.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I make no money from said non-ownership. Bioware is far more awesome than I am.

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><p>Hawke moved smoothly, an unnatural calm in the eye of a hurricane of chaos. Her companions were, for the most part, scrambling about packing up their lives. Aveline was fretting over which keepsakes from her honeymoon she could take and which she could bear to leave behind, and which shields she should take, and which armor would be of most use (". Isabela was hunting for a spare pair of boots, a bottle of Antivan brandy ("Hawke, to leave without one would be a SIN. The Maker would smite us!"), and a scandalous list of mislaid underthings that would have made Bethany blush and Merrill ask awkward questions. Varric was, in his usual way, holding court at the Hanged Man (which had, by hook or crook, survived the fighting), attempting to make contacts and store up information while spreading conflicting rumors about Hawke's fate. Merrill and Bethany had already been smuggled out of the city, despite Bethany's furious protests at still being "treated like a baby. I'm a grown woman, for the Maker's sake!" Meanwhile, Fenris was a relatively calm, if impatient, lurking shadow at Hawke's side, monitoring the madness.<p>

"I fail understand this foolish obsesion with _things_ you have, woman."

"Trust me, Broody, you'll thank me for the delay when, IF, I let you taste the brandy... Once I find it... And my Orlesian silk garters."

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><p>AN part 2: I feel like Isabela would have a different (sexual, because let's face it, it's Isabela after all) nickname for Fenris (the last line there is hers if you didn't catch that), but for the lfie of me I can't think of what it'd be, or if DA2 provides one. Shame on me for it having been entirely too long since I played. If there isn't one, cookies to whomever suggests a good one. Hugs to all my readers and friends on here (especially **kurgs** and **idrawcubes**) and hopefully I'll be back soon!


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